


Fisticuffs and Chocolate Fudge

by DaronwyK



Series: What Worth A Life - One-Shots & Excerpts [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: Somethings are worth fighting for, even if your mom doesn't think so.





	Fisticuffs and Chocolate Fudge

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same universe as my WIP ‘What Worth A Life’. AU – After the Battle of Hogwarts Hermione goes into politics, marries a widowed Lucius Malfoy, and becomes Minister for Magic. Story is set approximately 16 years after the Battle of Hogwarts.

**o.o.O.o.o**

 

As Lysander got off the Hogwarts Express at King’s cross, he spotted his parents waiting for him. He knew there would be questions about his black eye and bloody lip, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say. So far he’d managed to keep his fights at school and in situations where the Professors would never catch word of it, but today Mark McDougall had gone too far. No one called his mother a name like that and walk away unscathed. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin, dragging his trunk behind him.

 

His mother rushed over and was about to make a fuss over him when his father placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned down, whispering something to her. It was hard not to smirk at the annoyed expression she gave his father in return, but Lysander was grateful that she didn’t make a scene. He accepted a slightly restrained hug from his mother.

 

“You will tell me all about this once we get home,” Hermione Granger-Malfoy whispered into her son’s ear. Her tone was distinctly unimpressed.

 

“Yes mother,” he said quietly, grey eyes dropping down to the wooden platform.

 

“Let’s be going, I’m certain your sister will be eager to see you,” Lucius said, wrapping his arm around his son’s slightly hunched shoulders and apparated him directly to the front doors of Malfoy Manor. Half a heart-beat later, Hermione appeared with a crack beside them, a hand on the handle of her son’s school trunk.

 

“Inside right now, young man! Let me just fetch some murtlap for that eye and dittany for your lip, and then you can explain yourself.” She gave her son a rather disappointed look and headed into the house, heels clicking over the polished marble tiles as she headed to fetch her healing kit from the potions room.

 

“We’ll be in my study, darling,” Lucius called after her, and steered his son across the foyer. “What have I told you about fighting, Lysander?” he asked as they headed into the study, and he settled his son into the chair in front of his desk.

 

“To only do it for the right reasons, and only if you know you can win without getting caught,” Lysander replied, swallowing and trying his best to look more mature than his 13 years would suggest.

 

“I trust the other person was worse off?” Lucius arched an eyebrow.

 

“Yes Sir.” He nodded. “No one talks about my mother like that.” A little bit of steel flashed through his young grey eyes.

 

“Good lad.” Lucius clapped him on the shoulder. “Let your mother fuss, you know how she worries about you.” He winked.

 

“Yes Sir.” Lysander gave his father a little smile in return, glad at least that one of his parents understood the challenges of being a half-blood Malfoy.

 

“I might even persuaded Pim to make some of those double chocolate fudge cookies you adore so much,” Lucius said, looking up as his wife hurried into the study. He quickly schooled his features, looking every bit the stern disciplinarian everyone expected him to be.

 

“What were you thinking, getting into a fist fight? What if a Prefect had caught you?” Hermione said. “How many times have I told you that violence doesn’t solve anything, use your words!” she scolded him as she gently applied bruise paste to the rather impressive black eye he had coming up. She soaked a square of gauze in essence of dittany and had him press it to his lip. “Please tell me it wasn’t the MacDougall boy again?”

 

Lysander looked down, attempting to appear contrite. “He started it mum, honest,” he said.

 

“I don’t care who started it, Lysander Lucius Malfoy. You’re old enough to know when to walk away.” She frowned at him. She’d had three owls from Mrs. MacDougall this year, complaining that Lysander and his friends were picking on her son. She’d promised to look into it, and she was completely disappointed to find that it was actually true.

 

“Perhaps you should allow the boy to tell his side of the story?” Lucius said, tone ever so reasonable. He mentally applauded his son for managing not to talk back to his mother, but if he had been defending his mother’s honour so to speak, he saw little wrong with the boy getting into a fight. It was a worthy cause.

 

Hermione frowned but nodded, giving her son an expectant look. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Unsaid was that it had better be a damned good explanation.

 

“He and his stupid Gryffindork friends keep saying really foul things about you, and today on the train he called you a filthy mudblood traitor…and I couldn’t walk away from that. I don’t care what he says about me, but no one gets to talk about you,” he said, a stubborn set to his jaw and looking every inch his father’s son.

 

“Remind me dear…whose nose did you break in third year?” Lucius smirked a little as his wife blushed a little in embarrassment.

 

Hermione cleared her throat and gave them both exasperated looks. She knelt down and took both of her son’s hands in hers, making him meet her eyes. “There are lots of people who like to think they have a right to judge me and your father because of our choices. There’s nothing we can do about that, and while I love that you wanted to stand up for me…I don’t want you getting into any more fights on my account. You’re at school to learn, and have fun, not to fight my battles for me. Ok?” she said.

 

“Yes mum,” he replied. “I’ll try not to get into trouble again.” He didn’t promise it wouldn’t happen, but he would _try._

 

“Ok.” She stood and hugged him tightly. “I love you Lys, and I’m so glad you’re home.”

 

He returned the hug, letting himself cling to her tighter than he usually dared. “I love you too, mum,” he whispered into her shoulder.

 

“All right, go and find your sister. I believe she’s in the kitchen with Pim and Itsy trying to help make cookies for you.” Hermione had caught a glimpse of her chocolate-covered daughter on her way to get the healing kit.

 

He stood and smiled. “Thanks mum, and I’m sorry I worried you,” he said as he darted off to go and get some cookies fresh from the oven. He could practically taste them.

 

Lucius held a hand out to his wife, chuckling a little. “Boys will be boys, my dear,” he said and pulled her over into his arms. He pressed a kiss to temple, smelling the vanilla from her shampoo. “Try not to worry too much. I got into my fair share of scraps in school.”

 

“I just hate that he has to hear that word…because of me.” She sighed and relaxed into his arms, letting go of her stern ‘Minister of Magic’ persona. She loved her job, she truly did, but sometimes it was nice to just be Hermione, wife and mother. The hours she worked left precious little time for baking cookies and healing scraped knees, and she was still sometimes shocked to come home and find Lucius curled up in the library with Celia on his lap and a plate of half-eaten chocolate chip cookies beside them.

 

“There will always be narrow-minded, cruel children…I used to be one of them. The wonderful thing is, eventually we grow up.” He kissed her hair again. “Come, let’s go and rescue our Elves from sugar-crazed children.” He took her by the hand.

 

“What will you do with yourself once Celia goes off to school in two years?” she asked, reaching up to unclip her hair from a long day at the office.  

 

“I may see about getting back onto the Board of Governors, or perhaps look into founding that wizarding orphanage that we’ve discussed off and on for the last four years. I’ll find ways to fill my days, never fear.” He chuckled. She was as different from his first wife as night was from day, but he wouldn’t change a single thing about his fearless lioness. She was dragging their family’s reputation out of the shadows, kicking and screaming at times, and he loved every minute of it.

 

“Minerva may retire if you get back onto the Board.” Hermione laughed and then she stopped dead as they walked into the kitchen, which was quite the sight. She had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from howling with laughter.

 

Lysander was covered in melted chocolate, a ceramic mixing bowl overturned onto his head, and the chocolate positively dripping off his blonde curls. Pim was splattered in whipped cream, and Itsy was wringing her hands in a worried manner, while Celia stood in the middle of the chaos scowling at her brother. She had only the tiniest, little smudge of chocolate on the end of her nose. Little purple sparks were dancing off her curls.

 

“And what, pray tell, is going on here?” Lucius’ smooth voice cut through the heavy silence.

 

“He stole my cookie dough!” Celia said, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

 

“And in retaliation you dumped the chocolate fudge over his head?” Lucius said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the word.

 

“NO! I threw an egg at him, so Lys put fudge ON MY NOSE!” She glared. “Then I dumped the fudge on him.”

“Ah, I see,” Lucius said and the very corner of his mouth twitched as if he too were trying desperately hard not to laugh. “However provoked you might have been, such behaviour is most unbefitting a young lady,” he said. “Upstairs to you room, no cookies for you tonight.”

 

“But father….” she whined.

 

“Now.” He motioned with his hand.

 

She stomped her foot and left the kitchen, looking as if she found the whole thing terribly unfair.

 

Hermione quickly flicked a silencing ward up, then collapsed in a fit of laughter as her husband went over to rescue Lysander. Luckily, it seemed that her son was just as amused as she was. He scooped a finger through the fudge on his face and sucked it off.

 

“Pim, this is delicious.” He grinned.

 

“Thank you, young master,” she said, trying to clean the incredible mess all over the kitchen.

 

Lucius chuckled and took out his wand, flicking it over his son and the rest of the kitchen. _“Scourgify,”_ he said and within seconds the whole sordid mess was gone. “Pim, I trust you can finish the next batch of cookies unaided?”

 

“Yes master.” The elf said and hurried along to start a fresh batch. Itsy meanwhile pulled the first trays out of the oven and set them to cool.

 

Lysander snuck a few off the pan. “I’m going to go and get unpacked and changed before dinner,” he said to his parents and carefully tucked a few more cookies into his pocket before heading upstairs.

 

It didn’t take long to put his books away neatly on his bookcase, and he left his clothes out for Pim to take and launder later. He grabbed a shower and changed into a pair of faded jeans and his favourite Falmouth Falcons T-shirt before grabbing the extra cookies and heading off towards his sister’s room. Celia would be joining him at Hogwarts in another couple years, and he knew she was getting impatient. He knocked a little pattern on her door, then popped his head in.

 

“Hey Celia, peace?” He showed her the cookies.

 

She gave him a little smile. “Thanks Lys…I’m sorry I dumped the fudge over your head.”

 

“I’m a prat, I deserved it,” he said and went into her room, flopping down on the bed and surrendering the cookies. “So, tell me true little sis, how much did you miss me?”

 

“Lots, it’s so boring here without you.” She sighed. “Can we go flying tomorrow? Please?” She gave him a hopeful look.

 

“You bet,” he promised. “Gotta start getting you in shape if you’re going to make the House team one day.” Lysander had actually managed to make the team this year, and was one of the Chasers. His sister though, with her aim…he just knew she was going to be a beater.

 

“I can’t wait to go to Hogwarts,” she sighed and nibbled on one of the cookies.

 

“It’s going to be great.” Lysander agreed. They’d rule Slytherin together, just like their father had back in his day. He still had his challenges there, but given another full year he’d solidify his position so that Celia could slide in without a ripple. A cookie bounced off his temple, and startled him from his thoughts. “Hey!”

 

“Stop thinking so hard,” Celia said, smirking at him. “Come on…dinner should be just about ready.” She hopped off the bed and brushed the cookie crumbs off her dress, not wanting their parents to see the evidence.

 

Lysander laughed a bit and got up. She was right, it was finally summer and he could worry about plotting his takeover of Slytherin later. It was time to relax, fly his broom, and eat as many cookies as he could sneak out of the kitchen.

 

~Fin~

  



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